


Lighting the tree

by maxwellandlovelace



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pilot!Peeta, Swedish!Everlark, christmas drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2019-04-06 21:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14065749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxwellandlovelace/pseuds/maxwellandlovelace
Summary: Peeta's work as a pilot in the Swedish Air Force sometimes keeps him away from Katniss. But this year he has a special Christmas gift for her.





	Lighting the tree

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful friend papofglencoe for betaing this!
> 
> Originally posted on tumblr December 2017.

_ Heads up! _

 

It’s been hours since he sent it, but I still can’t figure out what it means. Peeta’s known for sending cryptic texts, but I think this one takes the cake. He’s been acting really weird the last couple of days. Not bad weird. Smiling for virtually no reason, but refusing to explain why. He says it’s the Christmas spirit, but I call bullshit. Yes, Christmas always cheers him up, but not like this.

 

I’m suspecting something’s up at work. Peeta’s a pilot in the Swedish Air Force, and it’s not always that he’s allowed to talk about what he does. I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not curious about what it is, but I accepted that part of him when I decided I wanted to be with him. Living with a soldier puts an extra strain on a relationship—long weeks away from home and not always being able to talk about what he’s seen. Granted, Sweden has not been in any war for two hundred years, but the armed forces still have work to do. And working in peacekeeping forces in war-torn places, he’s seen his fair share of shit.

 

I know because I recognize the look in his eyes when he remembers. And I’m there when he wakes up from his nightmares.

 

And because of said work, he’ll be gone for a couple of days, leaving tomorrow. And I’m planning on giving him a proper send-off. The thought alone sends an electric current through my body, and I can’t wait for him to come home. Since he’s leaving we’re planning on putting up the Christmas lights in our small plastic tree on the balcony today, and Peeta said he’d be home by two thirty to help me with it. I’ve had that tree since forever, and it doesn’t feel like Christmas without it. I  _ could _ do it on my own, but Peeta’s a whiz with the lights. I always tangle the cord, so I’m letting him do all the work.

 

It’s almost half past two and the daylight is beginning to fade. I’m about to text Peeta, asking him if he’s on his way when a strange noise interrupts me. It’s like being in an airport, hearing a plane take off. But it only gets louder. Rushing out to the balcony, I try to locate the source of the sound, and I immediately see about fifteen small lights moving across the sky. And they’re flying low. Way lower than normal. My first reaction is fear. Is our airspace being violated? And does that mean Peeta’s up there?

 

But wait. That’s a weird formation. It almost looks like a… like a Christmas tree. As the fighter jets fly right above our apartment I can see it clearly. It’s an amazing display of precision, and the sound that peaks a couple of seconds after they’ve flown by is so loud I have to cover my ears.

 

A Christmas tree of fighter jets, right above the capital.  _ Now _ I get his text.

 

A quick internet search confirms my suspicion. The Swedish Air Force is sending a Christmas greeting to the public and practising flying in larger formations. A smile spreads on my lips. Peeta was in one of them, showing the entire city how skilled he is at what he does, and it fills me with pride.

 

I find my phone and answer his text.  _ Your tree is bigger than mine. _

 

It’s a couple of hours later when he finally comes through the front door. He’s in civilian clothes, and normally I’d be a little disappointed because Peeta Mellark in his flying gear is treat for the eyes. But right now my mind is somewhere else. As glad as I am for him to finally be home, I’m a little sad we didn’t get this afternoon together. He’s leaving early tomorrow, and I was hoping for some quality time with him. So I make use of the little time we have and smack my lips against his before he can say anything.

 

He catches on quickly, grabbing my hips and pressing them to his. When I slide my hands up his chest and shoulders, locking them behind his neck, he deepens the kiss—tongues swirling and hands wandering. When we have to break for air he rests his forehead against mine.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hey. Which one were you?”

 

“I was on the left wing. Sorry about the tree. We can do it tomorrow.”

 

A sliver of hope flashes through me, but I don’t trust myself to think that I heard him correctly. “Uhm… What?”

 

He tries to suppress a smile, but he’s not very successful. “I had to tell you something to make sure you were home.”

 

_ He’s not leaving? _ No, I must not be hearing right. “Are you… Are you saying you’ll be home tomorrow?”

 

He kisses my forehead, and I melt into his touch. “Yes. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Relief washes through me, and I lean against him, not trusting myself to be able to stand up. He’s staying here with me. I’d resigned myself to being alone for at least a week, but hearing him say those words—he’s staying here—is a sensation I wasn’t ready for. 

 

Instead, I slide my hands down his chest, slowly pushing him against the door. He’s strong enough to resist, but he complies. “You lied.”

 

“I know, but—”

 

I shut him up with a kiss, and he quickly catches on. Our tongues clash together in mix of lust and love. Before he came home I changed into my nightclothes. Usually that’s just a t-shirt of his, but since I was under the impression that he had to leave tomorrow I’d gone for something special tonight. So I part the robe I’m wearing, revealing the new set of underwear. It’s nothing fancy—a matching set of red cotton bra and panties—but Peeta seems to appreciate it.

 

A groan escapes his soft lips before he helps me out of the robe, sliding it off my arms, and it falls to the floor. Grabbing my hips, he turns us both around so he’s pressing me against the door, our lips locked together. I don’t hesitate to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. His mouth moves to the side of my neck, and he starts to suck when I grab his shaft and start stroking, his tongue connecting with my skin in all the right places.

 

“Touch me,” I plead, and it’s barely audible, but he hears. His hand finds its way inside my panties, and when his finger circles my clit I cry out in pleasure. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two fingers inside. “Oh!” I don’t know how much someone on the other side of the door might be able to hear, but this feels so good that I honestly don’t give a fuck.

 

I quicken the pace with my hand on his cock, and I make sure to squeeze the head the way I know he likes. When I do, his thumb presses down on my clit again, and a jolt of fire spreads throughout me, out to the tips of my toes, and I know I’m close. So close. And Peeta is too. His pants are ragged and his breath hitches on every stroke. “Shit. Jesus, fuck. I need… I want…” I know he’s barely hanging onto his senses when he can only say the first two words in each sentence. Peeta takes pride in being able to stay in control. He needs it for his work, to stay calm even in the heat of the moment. That’s why it’s such a turn-on when he lets go under my touch.

 

Releasing him from my grip, he quickly catches on, grabbing the back of my thighs as I lock my legs around his hips. Using only one arm to hold me up, he pushes my panties aside and doesn’t hesitate to push in.

 

Fuck, it feels amazing. Filling me just the right amount, I’m completely at his mercy. 

 

This won’t last long, but I don’t care. We can go slow later. Right now I want this man to make me come, using any means necessary. And he does. He uses his cock, his hands, his tongue and every movement brings me so much closer. There’s not much control in either of our motions, only ambition.

 

As good as this feels, the orgasm still catches me by surprise. I can’t stop the shuddering as the tingle intensifies into a wonderful bliss that completely fogs my brain, shutting everything out except for him. Peeta moves inside me through my release. “Fuck. You feel so… ”

 

His words prolong my climax, and when I come down from the high his piercing blue gaze is filled with hunger and lust.

 

“You okay?” he asks.

 

I pull his face to mine, catching his bottom lip between my teeth. “Yes.”

 

Pushing my back against the door again, he continues to fuck me, quickly resuming the same frantic pace as before. He puts his mouth on my neck, sucking the flesh there. When the first wave of his orgasm hits I sift my fingers through his now sweat-soaked hair. There isn’t much to hang onto, so my fingernails dig into his scalp. This earns me another ‘fuck’ as he thrusts into me through his release, losing all control.

 

He’s still holding me against the door when he comes back to his senses, still inside me.

 

“That was hot.”

 

“Yeah, you should fly in Christmas tree formation more often.”

 

He snorts. “Nah, too much work,” he says, but he barely contains a smile.

 

I swat his shoulder. “Are you saying it wasn’t worth it?”

 

“Oh, definitely.” I capture his sweet lips in a brief kiss. “I wanted to share this with you.”

 

_ Of course. _ There are so many parts of his job that he can’t talk to me about, and I know it eats at him. He’s afraid that he’s shutting me out. Honestly, I  _ do _ feel shut out sometimes, that there are some things he can only discuss with his colleagues, but never in a million years would I hold it against him. He serves our country, and I couldn’t be prouder.

 

But this was something he  _ could _ share with me. And he did it in the best way possible.

 

I poke at his abs. “You better work out. Next year I want you on top.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by what the actual Swedish Air Force did (https://www.thelocal.se/20171213/why-16-fighter-jets-flew-over-stockholm-december-13 ).
> 
> Thanks for reading! I always appreciate comments!


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